"So, Joash, this is your newest apprentice. How did you
keep him secret all these years? I have only seen him in your
shop these past few months. Surely, you don't mean to take credit
today for another's work. He is your pupil isn't he?" Isaac
had heard stories, but Joash had not presented an apprentice for
his final exam for many years. In fact the name of Joash had not
been heard among the finest weavers of Jerusalem for a good many
years.
"But of course, Isaac, he is the pupil of my old age. I know
so much it takes me half the time it takes you to train up a new
master weaver." He knew the credit was not to his skill, but
Joash could not resist the chance to poke the goad at Isaac. Not
hard enough to hurt, just enough to remind him that Joash the
master weaver was still a man to be treated with respect.
"That's not what I hear in the streets, but then who would
believe the gossip of the rabble." Who would believe that a
man's sight could be given to him as a full grown man instead of
a new born babe? Who would believe that a potter's son could
become a weaver, a journeyman weaver in fortnight of months?
"Tell me is it true what they say, that he was born blind?
That some teacher from Galilee gave him his sight?"
"Isaac, I really don't know what to believe. I only know
what I have seen. I have known this boy's family all my life. I
watched his father grow up while I watched the trees in my garden
grow strong and tall. I watched his mother grow from a young girl
into a beautiful woman and then into an old woman from guilt over
he son's condition. I watched this boy stumble as a baby,
tripping over rocks other children would have walked around. I
watched as he grew confident and able to run with the other
children, dodging rocks at the last minute as if he saw them with
his mind. He will tell you how his sight was granted that the
power of God might be displayed; I only know that something
happened to him."
"But Joash, to take in the son of a potter as an apprentice.
You know this has never been done. He will bring disgrace on our
brotherhood. He will bring the honorable name of the weavers into
the clay with the potters. My hands have never had to become
caked in mud. My work is clean; my hands are soft from the fine
oils in the wools. They are not rough like the hands of Jonathan
the potter's. How can you hope that the others will accept this
wonder boy of yours?"
"Again, I only know what I have seen. This boy's life has
been touched by something or someone. From his first piece at the
apprentice loom, he has never given me anything except first
quality work. He has made a mistake or two, but nothing like the
kinds of mistakes we made as young boys. It may just be his age.
He started late, you know, and maybe that is all there is to it.
I don't know of anyone who has started as late as he."
"All right, all right, so he can do the job well. So he
hardly ever makes mistakes. I still say the the son of a potter
should be a potter and the son of a weaver should be a
weaver."
"Isaac, did I ever tell you about my grandfather?"
"I hardly know what your ancestors have to do with this, but
I bet I am going to hear."
"When my family came to Jerusalem, I was a young boy, barely
weaned. My father and his father set up a small shop at the far
edge of town. They didn't even dare to come to the street of the
weavers. For ten long years, we worked to earn the right to live
on this street. No one knew us, no one knew my grandfather's
teacher. He had to prove beyond all doubt that he truly was a
weaver."
"Joash, I know your grandfather was a master weaver. He
trained some of Jerusalem's finest. He had the patience to
cultivate the spark of inspiration into full blown genius. Some
even said that if it had not been for his foot, he would have
been the best weaver in all Jerusalem."
"That foot is what made him into a weaver."
"Made him into a weaver? "
"Yes, made him into a weaver. My grandfather was a young man
with my grandmother and my father to watch over. One day he was
in the forest felling some trees to cut into boards."
"But, Joash, that is the work of "
"A carpenter. Exactly, my grandfather, the master weaver had
apprenticed to become a carpenter. In his small village, he was
the best. But that day the wind came up just as he was about to
put the ax to a large tree for the final blow. And the "
" ...wind caught the tree and dropped it on your
grandfather's foot crushing it. Joash, I am so sorry. I had no
idea."
"Thank you, Isaac. No one had any idea. We never spoke of
those days. I was not there and my father hid the story from me.
He did not want me to know that I did not come from a long line
of weavers. He did not want me to know that Grandfather had to
sell the little he had to pay someone to train him again. A
carpenter with a bad foot cannot go to cut the trees. He cannot
carry heavy board about the shops. A crushed foot will not easily
climb a ladder. But, a man with a strong desire to care for his
family and the keen eye of an artist can sit at a loom and work
as a master weaver."
"I suppose you want me to encourage the others to give
Joshua a fair hearing."
"If a crippled carpenter can break through the wall to be
just short of the best weaver in Jerusalem, don't you think that
Joshua should have at least a chance to prove the strength of his
gift. I have no idea if he will pass the test. I have had a few
apprentices fail the test even after years of learning the trade.
If he fails, it should be his work that brings him down, not his
heritage."
Isaac pleaded Joshua's case. A few well placed comments about
Joash's grandfather and the legacy of the great master weaver's
skill being reborn in the miracle man were enough to turn the
tide of bickering about a potter's son.
Joshua took his place at the loom. He sat at this type of loom
for the first time just after cleaning put his booth from the
festival. After six weeks on the master loom, Joshua felt ready.
"Joash, I think I am ready for the test. I am the right age
to go before the master weavers' council. I met Mathious last
week. He is two years younger than me and he passed the test. I
hear that he plans to move the villages and set up shop. In just
a year or two he should be able to support a wife and family. He
told me about his betrothed. She must be beautiful to hear him.
They have waited for so many years. Even though they were
promised at birth, her father will not let him marry her until he
has a shop of his own."
Joash listened to his prize pupil until Joshua stopped rattling
on. "So that is the reason you want to risk it all. Joshua,
you will have only one chance before the council. If you fail,
they will never give you another hearing. I talked with Isaac the
other day. He says they don't even want to give you a first
attempt at passing the test. You are not one of them. Now you
want to gamble your only chance because of a girl. Wait another
year Joshua, you will be better known, you will have created much
more work by then. They will know that you are not just an
accident, a lightening flash. If you wait a year, I know you will
pass. Then you can have your master weaver's cloak and your
wedding robes. "
"But Joash, I ..."
"But nothing, if you want my blessing, you will wait."
Joshua's next rebuttal froze on his lips. Your blessing! Your
blessing? Memories flashed, thoughts jumbled, voices rang in his
ears. Joshua crumbled to his knees, his face seeking refuge in
his hands, his sorrow splashed on the floor."
"Joshua, Joshua, what is it?" Joash sat on the nearby
stool and touched the man crumpled in the dusty floor of the
shop. A gentle arm surrounded the shoulders to contain the
shaking. Eternities later, Joshua's body quit shuddering and the
cascades of grief from his eyes finally slowed to rivulets, then
a trickle, then stopped. Both arms were now around the man though
it was the little boy who felt the comfort.
Slowly the story came out.
"When I was a little boy, only eight days old, my parents
took me before the priest. They presented me to the Lord our God.
I received the mark of the covenant on my body and a blessing
from the priest. No one knew yet that I was blind. No one know
that I would never be more than a beggar in the streets. The
priest pronounced a blessing our me, 'May you grow into a mighty
man of God in Israel. May you follow in the way of your father
and bring honor on his head in his old age. My your house be full
of the laughter of your many children and the wise words of your
beautiful wife.' "
"Joshua, that is a wonderful blessing. Why does that make
you cry? I thought you would never stop."
"Don't you see, Joash. Until today, you are the first one
since that priest to even offer to give me your blessing. Once he
found out I was blind, my father knew I would never be able to
fulfill the blessing given to me by the priest. He must not have
wanted to add to my hurt by pouring more blessings on me only to
have them turn into curses. I only know of the priest's blessing
because my mother used to pray it over me when she thought I was
asleep. She would stroke my hair and pray softly. I kept quiet so
she would not leave. Some nights she would pray my blessing and
then she would ask God what she had done to bring about the curse
that turned my blessing into a her dreams' tomb. Her words fell
from her broken heart. 'Oh, Lord my God, have mercy on me. Reveal
to me O Lord my healer the sins I have committed to bring this
curse on my only son. Show me my heart, O Lord, so that I make
atonement for my sins. Tell me, so I can bring the proper
sacrifice to the temple and you can restore sight to my son.'
"
"You mean, she blamed herself all these years." Now
Joash knew why the young Esther had aged so quickly. When she and
Jonathan had celebrated their wedding twenty years earlier, Joash
had been almost jealous of Jonathan. To have such a beautiful
wife who glowed with the love they shared. But after Joshua had
been born, the glow of Esther's beauty dimmed ever so slightly
with each missed promise. By the time Joshua reached his fifth
birthday, Esther appeared to have washed away a decade's worth of
energy. A soft border of white edged her once luxurious brown
hair. By the time Joshua would have been apprenticed, Esther
looked more like his grandmother than his mother. "Joshua,
we must take our time. You have so much to gain for everyone. If
you fail, think what it will mean to your mother and your father.
They carried the blame for your blindness for 18 years. Do you
want them to carry the shame of your failure too? I know Sarai is
beautiful. I know you love her, but you must wait at least until
after the next Passover."
"I'm too tried to fight about it now. I think I need to go
home." Joshua dragged himself home and tossed himself into
the dust beside the bench in front of his father's shop. "I
have to prove to Sari that I can be the provider she needs. I
must have Joash's blessing or I will never be part of the
weaver's guild. I know I ..."
"Joshua, you are home early." His father's voice came
from inside the shop. "Why don't you come in and help we
clean up, then we can have dinner early. Maybe we can use the
extra minutes to walk down by the market place."
"Father, I " Joshua was about to say that we was too
tired to help and too tired to walk by the market because he had
been through such a rough afternoon. " will be right
in." His father had never asked him to do such a normal
"manly" thing as walk down by the marketplace.
"I hear that your work is coming along very well with Joash.
Do you plan to take your test soon? You said something about it
the other day."
"Joash thinks I should wait." Joshua helped his father
wash down the tools. "He said I should wait since I have
only been around for a while. He said some of the older men would
be jealous of my work.
"Joash may have a point, Joshua. He knows those men well.
What can another six or eight months matter?"
"But Father, that means another six or eight months before
Sarai and I could get married."
"And should a beautiful girl like Sarai marry a master
weaver or a maker of cleaning rags? The daughter of my once best
friend deserves the best."
"But I know I could pass the test with my eyes closed."
"And if you passed the test and the rest of the master
weavers blocked you out, how could you ever hope to become part
of that group. I think you need to listen to Master Joash"
With that, his father put away the last of the tools and urged
his son off to wash. The walk to the market did not stir up the
problem of the test again. They walked and greeted friends. His
father introduced Joshua to an occasional face who had been only
a voice before. By bed time, Joshua knew he had to follow the
advice of Joash and put off the test he knew he could complete
today.
© 1998 Laughing Wind Production Company. All rights reserved.
Chapter One
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